


Finding What’s Missing

by cami_soul



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hd_erised, Drunk Sex, Fluff, Grimmauld Place, HP: EWE, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining, Post-Hogwarts, Smut, Tequila, past crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-01-30 20:54:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12661236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cami_soul/pseuds/cami_soul
Summary: There are big problems at Grimmauld Place and Harry needs Draco Malfoy’s reluctant help to fix it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twistedmiracle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedmiracle/gifts).



> To my giftee, I hope my story pleases you. I enjoyed working with your prompt. This story ended up taking on a life of its own. Thank you very much to D for the beta-read! She is fabulous! All mistakes and errors that remain are my own. Thank you to the mods for running this fest. I’m so excited to be participating.

There was something very wrong with Grimmauld place. Harry had only been living in it by himself for the past three months. During his Auror training, he had lived at the Burrow with Ron and at some of the training centers, intermittently. Now that their training was complete, Ron and Hermione were going to be married soon, and Harry decided he should probably try and be independent and live on his own. 

It had not been going well. Doors and staircases had disappeared. Walls had appeared out of nowhere and, at least a dozen times, whole rooms had appeared and/or disappeared. Fires had flared up unpredictably. And at least three times, his life had been in danger. The first time, he was trapped in a room without any windows or doors for over twenty-four hours. The second time, the walls of the kitchen had started to close in and he managed to crawl out of a window just in time to avoid being squashed. The third time, the floor had disappeared from right underneath him. Harry had fallen two stories before he had managed to cast a Cushioning Charm to break his fall. 

But the strangest occurrence of all had been last night. While he had been sleeping, Harry had been visited by his godfather, Sirius. He wasn’t sure if it was a ghost, his own imagination, or the weirdness of the house, which had brought on the vision. He had been so happy to see his godfather and had so many questions he wanted to ask him. However, vision Sirius was only interested in one topic – Grimmauld Place. 

Sirius had told Harry that something was wrong with the magical core of the house. He said that he believed his brother, Regulus, had tampered with the magical core after he had decided to turn his back on the Death Eaters. Harry wasn’t even sure if a magical core was a real thing or just something his brain had made up during a dream. He would have written off the experience with Sirius as pure imagination, if all of the other things hadn’t been going wrong. Harry decided he needed to investigate this, imagination or not. 

Usually, in a situation such as this, he would turn to Hermione, his amazingly brilliant and tenacious friend. However, in this case, since they were dealing with a magical house from an ancient pure-blood family, he would need to turn to another powerful witch. Harry needed to see Molly Weasley. 

Even though he and Ginny had long since broken things off, Harry was an often visitor at the Burrow and was still included in family events. He had worried things would be awkward with Molly and Arthur but they hadn’t been, they were both just as warm and caring to him as ever. In fact, they had insisted he stay with them when he and Ron were both completing their Auror training. 

Harry sent an owl to Head Auror Robards, telling him he would be late. Robards already knew about the strange things Harry’s house had been doing. Without stopping to eat breakfast, Harry went to his Floo and traveled to the Burrow. He stumbled out of the Weasleys’ Floo with Floo powder smudged all over his face and clothes. As he straightened up, he almost knocked into Arthur. “Harry, my boy, I was just headed to work. Did you need something?” he asked kindly. 

Harry smiled easily as he replied, “Hi Arthur. No, I don’t need you. Er, that is...I mean, I really need to talk to Molly. Not that you’re not great, really.” 

Arthur patted Harry on the shoulder fondly, “No need to worry, Harry. Not offended. My treacle tarts are not nearly as good. I’d better be off then.” With that, he stepped into the Floo to head to the Ministry. 

When Arthur had left, Harry made his way to the kitchen, guessing that was where he would find Molly. Though the pain of losing one of her children still often haunted her eyes, Molly had thrown all of her energy into the care of her remaining children, Arthur, and of course, Harry. Harry found her alone in the kitchen. Bill and Percy were married, with families of their own. Charlie was still tending the dragons in Romania. George had moved into a flat above his shop. Ginny was off traveling with the Holyhead Harpies. And although Ron still lived at home, he was probably at work since both he and Harry were full Aurors now. 

As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, Molly swept him up into her arms. Harry rested his cheek on the top of her head and let the comfort wrap around him. “Oh, my poor dear! Harry, you look dreadful! And what have you been eating? You’re as skinny as a rail!” she scolded affectionately, giving his middle a tight squeeze. 

Without giving Harry a chance to answer, she bustled him to the table and set a plate heaped with food in front of him. When the delicious scents reached his nose, Harry’s stomach gave a loud grumble in response. Molly tsked under her breath as she set about making tea. Harry tucked in and began to eat knowing it would be useless to argue, and he really was quite hungry. He had gotten spoiled living with the Weasleys for more than a year. 

When Harry had finished eating and was sipping on his second cup of tea, three sugars and light milk, Molly finally sat down at the table with him. Harry wiped his mouth and took a deep breath, “Molly, I need to talk to you!” 

“I figured as much. You know that Arthur and I won’t love you any less, no matter who you love,” Molly reached over and patted Harry’s hand. Harry looked up at her with a bewildered expression. “You know we don’t care about that, as long as you’re happy. And that he’s a nice boy, of course. Are you seeing someone? Ron hasn’t said. If not, Matilda Martin’s nephew is very handsome! And a Healer at St. Mungo’s.” Molly reached over and began pounding Harry on the back when he started choking on his tea. 

“No, I’m not...” Harry’s voice was raspy from the choking, and his face was as red as a beet. “I, er, that’s, uh, not what I’m here to talk, er, about.” 

“Oh, ok,” Molly looked a little bit deflated, “whenever you’re ready then. Should I still tell Matilda...” 

“No, no, that’s, no,” Harry interrupted. He had no intention of discussing his confused and tangled sexual identity with Molly Weasley. “I’m actually here about my house,” he said, determined to change the subject. “I’m here for some advice.” 

He explained everything that had been going on with his house, and he ended with the dream he had had the night before. Molly’s face had gotten more still and serious with every word that he spoke. “And I don’t even know if there is such a thing as a magical core, for a house,” he finished. 

“Oh yes my boy, there is,” Molly said in a quiet voice. “Harry, this is a very serious problem. I wish you had come to me earlier. With the magical core disrupted, you are in grave danger,” Molly reached over and grasped Harry’s hands tightly in her own. “You cannot live there until this is solved.” When Harry tried to interrupt, she squeezed his hands tighter and continued, “There was always some question of the house accepting you since you are not of Black blood, but I had hoped Sirius’ approval would be enough. But without the magical core intact, it will see you as a threat and your life will be in danger. In fact, it may be a danger to others, including the Muggles you live around.” Molly stood up decisively and went and got her cloak from a peg on the wall, “We must speak to Kingsley about this.” 

Harry trailed after Molly back toward the Floo. He was bursting with unanswered questions but he didn’t seem likely to get any answers unless he went with her, so he followed after Molly, to see the Minister of Magic. 

After Molly had a brief, hushed conversation with his secretary, she and Harry were shown into Kingsley’s office. Molly relayed to him what Harry had told her. Kingsley asked them both clarifying questions, his face as tense and serious as Molly’s was. Finally Harry couldn’t take it anymore and burst out, “Will someone tell me what’s happening? It’s just a house. What’s the big deal?” 

Kingsley looked at Harry gravely, “Harry, an ancient house like this, of a pure-blood family, is very powerful! And if its magical core has been tampered with, it will be very unstable magic!” 

Molly looked over at Harry equally grimly, “Harry, you will have to fix this if there is to be any hope of Grimmauld Place accepting you as master. You will also need to have help from the House of Black.” 

While Harry was thinking about what exactly this would mean, Kingsley jumped in, “Either Andromeda Tonks or Narcissa Malfoy should be able to help.” Harry just nodded numbly, thinking to himself he would turn to his godson’s guardian, and no way in hell would he ask anything of the Malfoys. His house really was trying to kill him. 


	2. Chapter 2

Harry stood outside the gates of Malfoy Manor, shifting on his feet and cursing his luck for the thousandth time. Kingsley, Molly and a contingent of senior Aurors had all gone with him to Grimmauld Place. They had opened up the floor of the kitchen to show him the magical core. It was encased in a sphere, and worked much like the core of a wand did. Half of the sphere was filled with objects that glowed a deep purple. But the other half appeared empty and a sickly green glow emanated from there. It had been determined that there were indeed items missing. No one had any idea what those items were or what they could be, but Harry was told that if he found one of the missing items, it would respond to the magic from a descendent of the House of Black. 

Another Auror escorted him to his room where he was allowed to pack a bag. He was not permitted to remain in his home, and two Aurors were stationed outside Grimmauld Place at all times. Harry headed straight over to Andromeda’s. Since his godson, Teddy, was Andromeda’s grandson, Harry was a frequent visitor in her home. She insisted that Harry stay in her guest room as long as he needed. 

They were sitting in the sunroom having tea while Teddy napped. Andromeda had her feet up and looked tired enough to take a nap herself; - Harry speculated that that was probably what she did on most days. Three-year-old Teddy was pure energy and mischief. Observing the time and energy Andromeda put into caring for Teddy, Harry came to the dreadful realization that she would not be able to travel around with him looking for the missing pieces of the magical core. This meant he would have to turn to the other Black descendent. 

This is why Harry now found himself outside of Malfoy Manor. When he had realized Andromeda couldn’t help him, he had owled Narcissa Malfoy, asking to meet with her. She replied almost immediately, inviting him for tea the very next day. He was holding her response in his hand. Narcissa’s note told him to wave the letter itself in an X pattern over the gate. Feeling foolish and uncertain, Harry followed the order. Surprisingly, the gates silently opened allowing him access. He reluctantly entered and trudged up the long drive. 

An elaborately carved, intimidating pair of doors were sheltered under a portico. A large brass knocker in the shape of a serpent head adorned the door on the right. Harry lifted the heavy knocker and let it fall. The dull, low sound reverberated in the space beyond the door. 

After a five-minute wait, the door was wrenched open and Harry found himself looking into a pair of startled grey eyes. “Potter! Why on Earth would you think you would be welcome in my home?” Draco looked down his nose and frowned at Harry. 

Harry was thrown by the sight of Malfoy. He hadn’t expected to see him. Last he had heard, Draco was off to Italy being trained as a Curse-breaker. Harry hadn’t seen him since the trials at the end of the war. The intervening time had been good to Malfoy. He wasn’t so thin and his face wasn’t so pinched. He had filled out with long, lean muscles. He may have even grown another inch, putting him two or three inches taller than Harry. His cheekbones were still high and his mouth still pouty. His hair was longer and no longer gelled within an inch of its life. Instead, it fell softly across his forehead and on his cheeks. Harry’s pulse started to race. 

“Well?” Draco demanded, “Have you gone mute?” A nasty expression twisted on his face. 

Harry belatedly realized how long he had been staring. “I, er, I mean...your mother, er, uh, well, she...” 

“Draco, darling,” Narcissa’s voice floated over the pair at the door, “Don’t leave Mr. Potter standing in the doorway. Invite him inside.” 

Harry stood on his toes and looked over Draco’s shoulder where he could see Narcissa. “Hello Mrs. Malfoy,” he called out. 

Draco grudgingly moved aside. “What on Earth is he doing here, Mother?” he frowned at Harry as he passed by him. 

“Won’t you join me in the front parlor?” Narcissa asked, leading the way without waiting for a response. Harry trailed along behind her and Draco trailed behind Harry. 

As soon as Narcissa Malfoy sat down on the emerald green damask settee, a house elf appeared with a tea tray piled high with the usual tea time treats. There were scones with clotted cream, cucumber and watercress finger sandwiches, and three kinds of biscuits – lemon, ginger and chocolate. 

Narcissa used her wand to pour the heavy teapot, “Cream and sugar, Mr. Potter?” 

“Ah, er, yes please. Both, two sugars, and please – just call me Harry,” his face turned red and he fidgeted under Narcissa’s implacable gaze. 

“Of, course,” she handed Harry his tea, “please help yourself.” Narcissa gestured toward the food before them. Then she turned and poured tea for her son too, “Here you are Draco darling.” 

Draco moved forward to collect his teacup and ended up bumping shoulders with Harry, earning Harry a glare. Harry stepped back quickly and took his tea and biscuits to a nearby arm chair. “Thank you very much for agreeing to see me, Mrs. Malfoy,” he began rather formally, trying very hard not to spill his tea and embarrass himself. 

“It is my pleasure,” Narcissa said in a voice that seemed to indicate that this was anything but a pleasure. “What can I do to be of assistance,” there was a pause before she continued, “Harry?” 

Harry explained to her all about the strange happenings in Grimmauld Place, the dream he had of Sirius, the theory they had about Regulus, and the investigation with the Aurors that had uncovered an incomplete core. 

The whole time he was talking, Draco had been glaring at him from his perch on the settee next to his mother. “Well, Potter, my mother certainly does not have your missing pieces. What could you possibly expect her to do about this? She never even lived in that house!” Draco set his lips in a grim line when he finished speaking. Narcissa reached over and laid her hand on his arm, settling him down with her touch. 

“Well...er, you see...I, ah, I have to find the, ah, er...to find the missing parts of the core, and uh...I need, well, they won’t...I mean,” Draco interrupted Harry’s bumbling at this point. 

“Spit it out Potter! What exactly are you asking my mother to do?” he asked harshly. 

Harry rushed to speak before Draco could derail him again, “I need a descendant of the Ancient House of Black. The parts of the magical core will only reveal themselves to someone from that bloodline,” he kept speaking quickly, “We have some ideas of where to start. Places Regulus might have visited. We’ll start looking there.” 

The limit of Draco’s patience was reached and he burst out, “You can’t possibly mean to suggest that you will be dragging my mother all around England, looking for Merlin knows what! You can’t be serious, Potter!” 

“Draco, darling, do sit down,” Draco had stood up during his impassioned speech. Narcissa turned to Harry and continued, “Harry, we are indebted to you for your assistance during the trials. I will be happy to help you, of course. When do you wish to leave?” 

“Absolutely not!” Draco thundered. He turned his glare on his mother and they seemed to be speaking without words. 

“Please excuse us for a moment, Harry, I wish to speak with my son.” The Malfoys, mother and son, moved across to the other side of the large room. Draco must have cast a Muffliato, because Harry could hear nothing of their conversation. It looked like a rather heated one until Harry saw Narcissa hold Draco’s hand and reach up to touch his face; - then it gave Harry a lump in his throat. Narcissa gazed at her son with all the love Harry had ever seen. 

When they were finished, Narcissa left the parlor and Draco returned to where Harry was still sitting. “My mother is unwell, and cannot join you. It is her wish that I take her place. When do you wish to leave?” 


	3. Chapter 3

As the small car passed through the countryside, there was silence save for the low drumming of Draco Malfoy’s fingers against his leg. Draco was sitting stiffly in the passenger seat, perfectly still except for his right hand fingers which were insistently drumming against the trousers of his right leg. Draco hadn’t spoken a word to Harry since they had gotten into the car, two hours ago. They still had one more hour of travel until they arrived in the small town of Llangynidr in Wales. Andromeda had told him that one of Regulus’ close friends from school had lived there, and that Regulus had visited at least once that they knew of. Since this was the strongest lead that they had, it was decided that they would start there. 

Yesterday, when Draco had made his shocking announcement, Harry had been unable to form a protest. He had just mumbled that they would leave in the morning, and Draco needed to be ready. Harry then made a swift exit that would not be characterized as running away. Not at all. 

Harry had spent the remaining afternoon with Hermione who helped him rent a Muggle automobile and plot his route on a map. It had been decided by Kingsley and Robards that he would travel by Muggle car. They wouldn’t know where the next lead might take them, so they would not necessarily have apparition coordinates and brooms would be much too conspicuous. Hermione had also helped him make a reservation in a Muggle inn, The Red Lion Inn, in Llangynidr. 

When Harry had picked up Draco this morning, he had raised one eyebrow and scowled at the choice of transportation but otherwise he had remained silent. In fact he had been too silent. Harry couldn’t figure out why Draco wasn’t blistering his ears right now with complaints about this whole adventure. The finger drumming had started about an hour ago and was grating on Harry’s nerves. 

Harry impulsively reached over with his left hand and grabbed Draco’s right, holding it tightly against Draco’s thigh. Draco tried to pull his hand free but Harry was not having it. He refused to think too much about why he liked the feel of Draco’s hand in his. 

“Potter!” Draco snapped, “Let go and use both of your hands to control this metal death trap! Are you trying to kill both of us?” 

“It’s fine, Malfoy. I can steer with one hand, there’s barely any traffic,” Harry answered. He shot a glance over at Draco and could see that he was gripping the dash with his left hand and shooting Harry his patented Malfoy glare. “Look, there’s no reason to be afraid. We’re perfectly...” Harry began. 

“Afraid! I’m not afraid. That would be preposterous, I am a wizard. I merely have a healthy caution that reckless Gryffindors are sorely lacking!” Draco interrupted. “Now unhand me!” he demanded. 

“I don’t think so. You’re finally talking to me.” Harry tightened his fingers around Draco’s. Confusingly, he thought he felt Draco’s hand squeeze him back but as soon as he had that thought, Draco was trying to pull it away again. 

Draco pressed his lips in a line and looked out the window, “If it means that much to you, Potter, I will continue to converse as soon as you release my hand.” 

Harry risked another look at Draco and the grim expression on his face, “How do I know you’ll keep your word?” 

Draco seemed to stiffen up even more. “I have never lied to you, Potter,” he said in a quiet voice. 

“Alright, then,” Harry let go of Draco and put both hands back on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry that your mom is sick.” 

Draco shot Harry a quick look and then went back to his perusal of the countryside, “Thank you. She hasn’t been strong since the trials, but my father’s death has hit her hard.” Draco took a breath and then added, “That was why I returned from Italy.” 

“I, ah, I hadn’t, er, realized that you had. Returned to England, that is,” Harry bit his lip and decided to forge on. “Did you like it, I...ah, I mean in Italy, did you like it there?” 

“It’s a lot easier there,” Draco responded, “I can blend in there. People, the wizarding community, don’t think of me as a Death Eater. I can just be Draco.” 

“I don’t think of you as a Death Eater,” Harry said it without thinking, but he realized it was true. 

“Please, Potter,” Draco scoffed, “you expect me to believe that?” 

“It’s true! I think that you’re a pretentious git; and a sneaky Slytherin. I think you’re damned hard to read, but you’re smart and you think quickly, and you’re easy on the eyes. But I don’t think about the Mark on your arm, Malfoy. You were never really one of them. You were trying to protect your parents; but when it came down to it, you couldn’t hurt Dumbledore or...” Harry realized that Draco had gotten very still and he had probably said way too much. 

Draco stared down at his hands that were clenched in his lap, “Or...?” 

Harry shifted his weight in the driver’s seat and clenched and unclenched his hands on the steering wheel, “Well...I mean, ah...well, me...You didn’t turn me over to Voldemort. You, ah...couldn’t hurt...me.” 

“I’m glad,” Draco said it quietly with his head facing away from Harry, but Harry heard it nonetheless. 

“What...ah, what are you glad about?” Harry asked hesitantly, shooting a swift look over to Draco but he only saw the back of his pale blond head. 

“That you don’t just see me as a Death Eater...that you see I’m...more...” Draco was still refusing to look over at Harry. The countryside was giving way to road signs and settlements and Draco took the opportunity to change the subject. “Just where the hell are we going anyway? You never said.” 

“We’re heading to a small town called Llangynidr. Regulus had a school mate from there. He didn’t have a lot of friends, but he was close to this guy, Archibald Davies,” Harry was relieved that Draco was looking at him again, and decided to go with the change in topic. 

“Regulus was in Slytherin, wasn’t he?” Draco asked. 

“Yeah, all the Blacks were...except Sirius, of course,” Harry’s voice softened when he spoke of his godfather. “Listen, when we get there...we, ah...well, we have to stay at a Muggle inn. There are no wizarding inns nearby,” Harry threw a cautious look at Draco to see how he was taking this news. “You’ll be ok, I’ll help...” but he was interrupted again. 

Draco bristled, sitting up stiffly once again, “Of course, I will be fine! I’m not an idiot. I have stayed in Muggle accommodations before, you know.” 

“Sor-sorry...I wasn’t trying to insult you,” Harry frowned. “I guess we really don’t know each other very well...now.” This thought startled Harry. Draco had been such a constant presence in his life since they were 11, and persistently in Harry’s thoughts. But before yesterday, Harry hadn’t even seen Draco in over three years. As soon as the trials were over, Draco had left for Italy, to study with a Curse-breaker, and as far as Harry knew he had not been back until now. 

“We are no longer children, Potter,” Draco said flatly. 

“Well, er...why don’t we...I mean, ah...we could get to know each other. I mean...er, you know...on this trip...” Harry trailed off, not sure of how to explain to Draco his need to know him, really know him. 

Draco smirked, “Why Potter, do you want to be friends?” he chuckled to himself at this absurd notion, but he choked on his laughter with Harry’s response. 

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Harry wasn’t going to let Draco’s cynicism stop him. 


	4. Chapter 4

“I think this is a little too friendly. Don’t you, Potter?” Draco shot Harry another inscrutable look. They had checked into the Red Lion Inn and were standing in their room. Looking at the bed. The double bed. The only bed. 

Harry turned bright red at Draco’s remark. They had managed to have a civil conversation for the remainder of the drive. They had come straight to the inn to check in. The innkeeper had told them they were lucky they had reservations because they had secured the last available room. She had smiled at them sweetly as she turned over the key and wished them an enjoyable stay. Now Harry wondered if she had supposed them to be a couple. And then his mind went to imagining them as a couple. As he stared at the bed, he pictured the two of them together...wound around each other, twisting and rubbing. 

At Harry’s prolonged silence, Draco lifted his wand and transfigured the bed into two single beds. They were a little narrow, but they would do. “Don’t worry, Potter, I don’t have designs on your virtue,” Draco didn’t look at Harry to see his reaction. Instead, he went over to the farthest bed and set down his suitcase. He unpacked his shirts and trousers and threw a pressing charm at them before hanging them up in the wardrobe. 

Harry finally shook himself out of his trance and walked over to sink down on the other bed. The images of Draco and himself had hit him hard. He hadn’t thought about Draco like that in a long time. He had thought he was over it. Granted, not being around Draco had probably helped. Now he couldn’t shake the thoughts. Draco’s pale soft skin under his hands, under his mouth. And Draco’s mouth on him! Oh, Merlin! Harry’s cock was now aching from only the thought of Draco sucking him. He needed to get control of himself. This would not do. He had a mission to complete. Besides, he was absolutely certain Draco wouldn’t want him that way. 

Harry forced himself to speak, to get things back on track, “We should use this afternoon to get started. I have some maps of the area, and there are a lot of caves near the river. We should probably start there. We can grab a bite at the pub downstairs first.” 

Draco had finished unpacking, and walked over to where Harry sat. “That sounds fine,” He looked closely at Harry’s flushed face, “Are you feeling well Potter? You look flushed. Do you have a fever?” 

Draco reached out to touch Harry’s forehead; - but Harry jerked away not wanting to feel Draco’s fingers on him right now. “No, no, I’m fine. Let’s go.” 

They locked and warded the door, and threw up a repelling charm to keep any curious Muggles from poking around in their room, before leaving to get some food. 

//////////

Harry and Draco were tired, frustrated and grimy. They had spent the afternoon searching cave after cave along the river without success. When it had gotten so dark that they were tripping and stumbling, even with the light from their wands, they decided to call it a day and return to the inn. They were back at their room to clean up before returning to the pub for dinner. 

“Well that was a bloody great waste of time!” Draco moved into the room brushing at the dirt on his shirt sleeves. “And I’m pretty sure this shirt is ruined!” 

“You were the one who chose to wear your best shirt when I told you we were going to go look in caves all afternoon,” exasperation made Harry’s temper show. “Why didn’t you wear something more appropriate?” 

“This is not even close to being my “best” shirt, Potter! It’s woven out of cotton for Salazar’s sake! And I didn’t wear anything else; because I don’t have anything else. This is as casual as I get,” Draco waved a hand at his broadcloth button up shirt and tan cotton trousers. 

Harry sat on his bed and ogled this “casual” Draco. During their search this afternoon he had opened the first two buttons on his shirt, showing his neck and a bit of tempting collar bone. He had also rolled up both his sleeves revealing strong well-formed forearms. Must be all that Curse-breaking. “I could, ah...help you with that. I mean...er, we can go to a shop, in the morning. To, you know, buy you some stuff. That way you won’t get your nice clothes dirty,” Harry volunteered. 

“Clothes like yours, you mean?” Draco asked. 

Harry couldn’t tell if Draco was offended or intrigued. “Yeah, clothes like mine.” 

There was a long pause before Draco spoke, “...ok.” He nodded slowly as he spoke, “Ok...we can do that. Shall I shower first?” he was moving into the attached bath with a bundle of clothing as he spoke, not waiting for an answer. 

//////////

Dinner had been good, solid pub fare and they had both polished off a couple of pints before their long day of traveling caught up with them. Harry had been surprised when Draco had eaten the food without complaint; he even ate every bite of the shepherd’s pie on his plate. He shocked him again when he ordered lager. Harry had never in his life imagined Draco drinking a beer. He always pictured him drinking some expensive wine, or a cocktail with ten exotic ingredients. Instead Draco had sat with Harry at the scarred wooden table and calmly sipped at his beer, while they discussed Puddlemere’s chances at the Quidditch Cup this year. 

Now Harry lay on his narrow single bed extremely aware that Draco was lying in his bed less than ten feet away. Draco had emerged from the bathroom dressed in a crisp pair of blue striped pajamas, buttoned all the way up to his neck. And all Harry could think about, as he watched Draco slide between his sheets, was what it would feel like to unfasten those buttons one by one. He would so love to strip Draco of his fussy pajamas and have him laid out naked before him. 

Harry himself was just wearing a t-shirt and boxers to sleep in. He had changed while Draco was in the bathroom, and the other man had looked startled to see him dressed like that. He seemed to stare at Harry for quite a long moment. He supposed that it wasn’t quite up to the Malfoy standards, but he hadn’t slept in a set of pajamas since he was a very small boy. Draco would just have to get used to it. 

His thoughts occupied with ideas of getting Draco naked, Harry was having a difficult time falling asleep. A good wank usually relaxed him and helped him sleep. Unfortunately, in this small room Draco was sure to hear him, so he tossed and turned instead. 

“For Merlin’s sake, Potter! You sound like a pregnant hippogriff making a nest! Lay still and go to sleep!” Draco demanded. 

“Sorry. Can’t sleep,” Harry said into the darkness. “It’s too quiet here. The Burrow always has so many people coming and going, not to mention all the spells and charms. It’s never quiet. And Grimmauld Place is in London, so...well, there’s always some noise or other.” Harry wasn’t sure if Draco was still awake, but the possibility that he was asleep and the darkness made him bold. “Was it noisy at night, in Italy?” he held his breath...waiting. 

“Venice is even noisier than London,” Draco’s soft drawl reached across the space between the two beds and curled into Harry’s ear. “I’m very good with muffling charms.” 

“Did you like it there?” Harry asked, trying to picture Draco off in another land. 

“Yes.” 

Harry wasn’t sure he liked hearing that. Of course, Draco deserved to be happy as much as anyone else, but somehow Harry didn’t like the idea that he had been happy away from...well, away from everything. 

“I hadn’t planned on returning,” Draco said wistfully. “I tried to get Mother to move there when she got ill, but she refused to leave the Manor.” 

“You were just going to stay away?” Harry felt a pang in his chest and his voice came out wobbly. “Forever?” 

“I had a life there, Potter,” Draco said testily. “You wouldn’t be so keen to give up your whole life, I’d warrant.” 

This conversation wasn’t going how Harry wanted and it was making him angry. Harry blurted out, “Did you have a girlfriend, then? Is that why you wanted to stay?” 

Draco gave a low chuckle, “No, Potter, no girlfriend.” He laughed some more. 

“What’s so funny about that? You’re a good-looking guy! It’s not out of the realm of possibility!” Harry bristled at Draco’s laughter. 

“No...wait, what? You think I’m good-looking? I thought you said I looked like a ferret?” Draco asked, turning the questioning back onto Harry. 

“I was fourteen! And you were a git!” Harry said self-righteously. “I didn’t really think that anyway,” he added under his breath. 

“We’re not children any longer, are we? We should get some sleep,” Draco said sounding tired. “Goodnight, Harry.” 


	5. Chapter 5

Harry hadn’t believed he would be able to get to sleep, but at some point Draco’s presence across the room turned from frustrating to comforting. It soothed him, somehow, to know Draco was here...with him. 

Soft, white light filled the room and slowly woke Harry. He summoned his glasses and then rolled over to look at Draco’s side of the room. He was still sleeping. His face was relaxed, and somehow he looked younger and more innocent in his sleep. A lock of white blond hair had fallen across his eyes, and his mouth was open just the tiniest bit. As Harry gazed at him his stomach did a little flip and his heart started to beat faster. This was totally crazy! He couldn’t feel this way about Draco, of all people! 

He was probably just feeling this way because he hadn’t really gone on a date in a very long time, and hadn’t had sex in even longer. He had been busy with Auror training, and the truth of it was he had never been very good at romance – even after he finally figured out which gender he was really attracted to. Sure, there were plenty of men who would be willing to be with him because he was the “Savior”, but those were not men Harry would want to be with in return. Not even the promise of an orgasm by something other than his own hand was enough for Harry to go with “a fan”. 

Draco stirred in his sleep, groaning and rolling over onto his stomach. The blankets had been pulled down a bit and his pajama top had twisted in such a way that Harry could see a slice of pale, muscled back. He clenched his hands and flopped onto his back in order to resist the temptation of walking over and touching that strip of skin. 

Another soft groan from Draco drew Harry’s attention back to him. Draco moved again, but not to roll over. As Harry watched, he realized that Draco’s hips were moving. He was slowly thrusting his hips into the mattress! He was rutting! In his sleep! Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away from the rise and fall of Draco’s ass under his blanket. He moaned again, louder this time. 

Harry wanted to stay and watch Draco come like this, but he realized it would make him look like a big pervert if Draco woke to see Harry watching him. He threw himself out of his bed and slammed into the bathroom. Hopefully, he woke Draco because he did not want to go back into the room to find that Draco was still getting himself off. He turned on the shower and stepped in. He lathered up and reached a hand down to his aching cock. Imagining Draco grinding down on top of him instead of his bed, Harry found release very quickly. 

In his rush to leave earlier, Harry had forgotten his clothes and so he exited the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Draco was sitting on his neatly made bed, frowning at the floor. He looked up when he heard Harry enter the room. His face turned red and his frown deepened; as he stared at Harry. Not sure what he had done to anger Draco, Harry decided to apologize. “Uh, sorry I took so long. I, er...the shower’s all yours,” he bit his lip nervously as he finished. 

“Good,” Draco bit out as he grabbed a pile of clothing from the end of his bed and brushed past Harry on his way to the bathroom. 

While he waited for Draco, Harry debated wanking again. Seeing Draco all flushed and in those prissy pajamas; had aroused him all over again. He felt like he was back to being a hormonal teenager. Realizing he couldn’t risk Draco returning too quickly and catching him, Harry decided to just get dressed. 

Draco did indeed shower quickly. He emerged hair still wet, but dressed in crisp trousers and a new button up. He appeared to be in a better mood and even had a small smile on his face. He looked Harry over, taking in his scruffy jeans and Weird Sisters t-shirt. An emotion flickered over his face too quickly for Harry to catch it. 

“Hungry?” Harry asked. 

Draco’s eyes widened and shot up to meet Harry’s, “Wha- ...what?” 

“Do you want to go down to breakfast now?” Harry suggested. 

Draco nodded slowly, “Breakfast? Yeah, sure. Breakfast, let’s go.” 

They walked to a small café nearby that served breakfast. Draco startled Harry when they sat down. Instead of taking the seat across the table from Harry, he sat down in the chair right next to him. And on top of that, after they had placed their orders, he shifted his chair so that his leg was pressed against Harry’s. Harry could barely concentrate on their conversation because all of his focus was on the firm, warm thigh muscles pressed up against him. He wanted to move away because he wasn’t sure he could stand the torture, but then he was worried that moving away would draw more attention to the situation. He wasn’t even sure Draco realized he was doing it. 

“Potter?” Draco was smiling at him, “Potter, are you with me?” 

“Oh! Sorry...I was, er...I was thinking about where we should look...today,” Harry darted his eyes around the room refusing to look at Draco. “We need a new plan.” 

“Ok, but first we’re going to dress me, right?” Draco laid his hand on his wrist, obliterating what was left of his concentration. 

“Dressing? Aren’t you dressed?” he asked, totally confused. 

“You’re going to help me dress like you. Remember?” Draco lightly squeezed his wrist. 

“Oh, oh yeah! I can help you with that. Sure. I thought maybe we could look around the town today anyway. See if anyone knows Archibald Davies,” Harry pulled his wrist away from Draco under the guise of using two hands to hold his tea mug. 

//////////

After breakfast, they walked down the main street taking notice of the shops and restaurants. Before they had gone very far, Draco began tugging on Harry’s arm. He had spotted a clothing store called _Rage_. 

“I don’t know, Malfoy...that place looks...” this was not the kind of store Harry was used to at all. 

“Fabulous! I know!” Draco’s eyes sparkled as he looked at the displays in the windows. “Look at that amazing jacket! And those trousers! We have to go in.” 

Harry reluctantly allowed himself to be dragged into the store. It was just as he feared, much more posh and trendy than he was used to. 

By the time Harry caught up with Draco on the other side of the store, Draco was already engaged in an animated conversation with the sales clerk and she was holding several garments in her arms. Her name tag read “Raven” and she was quite striking. Half her head was shaved and on the other half she had long hair dyed blue, black and purple. She had multiple piercings on many body parts. Harry was both mesmerized and intimidated. 

Draco startled him from his observations. “Potter? What do you think,” he asked as he held up what looked to Harry like two identical shirts. 

“Um...er, nice?” Harry was definitely out of his element and it appeared that Draco was definitely in his. “I can er...wait...” Harry said to the air as he realized that both Draco and the clerk were ignoring him. 

Raven was leading Draco towards the back, and Harry caught the words, “try on”. 

“Keep up, Potter,” Draco called over his shoulder. 

They reached a bank of curtained alcoves, and Raven swept one open and hung up the clothes she was carrying, “There’s plenty of room, your boyfriend can join you.” 

“Oh! I’m not...” Harry began to speak at the same time as Draco. 

“Good. Come along, Potter.” When Harry hesitated, Draco threw back over his shoulder, “Scared, Potter?” 

Harry didn’t answer. Instead he shook his head and moved into the cubicle, throwing himself into the chair that was sitting in the corner. He mumbled to himself, “Don’t know how I’m supposed to help anyways.” When he looked up, Draco was already stripping off his shirt and he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the creamy skin that was being exposed. 

Oblivious to the reaction of his audience, Draco pulled a soft, fine-knit charcoal jumper over his head. He then ran his fingers through his slightly mussed hair, instantly settling it back into its accustomed style. “Well? What do you think?” He looked into the mirror at Harry and met his eyes, “Do you like this one?” 

“Yeah,” Harry breathed out. The soft material draped across Draco’s chest, the collar pulling low and exposing his sharp collar bones. The color was a perfect foil to Draco’s pale beauty and drew Harry’s attention to his light eyes. “It’s...good.” Harry moistened his suddenly dry lips and swallowed. “I...” 

The moment was broken when Raven bustled back in with an armful of jeans. “I’ve found some jeans in your size.” She laid them down on a footstool. “Here, Draco, you should try these on first,” she held a black pair out to Draco. With a surprising lack of modesty, Draco toed off his shoes, and unfastened his trousers and pulled them off his legs. When he reached for the jeans, Raven pulled them back, muttering, “No, no, no...those won’t do at all!” She left the changing area still carrying the jeans. 

Draco turned and lifted bewildered eyes to Harry. Harry tried valiantly to keep his eyes locked with Draco’s and not to let them stray lower. Draco was standing in front of him wearing only the soft jumper and a pair of light blue boxer shorts looking soft and approachable, and it was doing disturbing things to Harry’s resolve. 

“What’s going on?” Draco whispered to Harry. 

Just as Harry was about to reply, Raven came back. She was still carrying the jeans, but she also had a small black piece of cloth. “You cannot wear those horrid pants! They are awful, burn them. Put these on instead,” Raven thrust out the black cloth to Draco. Then she tossed the jeans to Harry and in a small part of Harry’s brain he wondered if they had just stumbled onto Pansy Parkinson’s long lost cousin. “Change the pants, then try on the jeans,” she ordered and then left them alone again. 

Harry held his breath as Draco turned his back and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of the boxers. He knew he shouldn’t be looking, he should give Draco some privacy. But on the other hand, Draco knew he was here and hadn’t asked him to leave. He bit down on his lip as Draco revealed a shadowy cleft, and then the two perfect pale globes of his arse. Harry shifted in his chair as his cock started to ache and harden. 

Harry couldn’t prevent the small sound that escaped when Draco bent over to pull off one pair of pants and pull on the other, and he was treated to the flash of small pink pucker and a pair of gently swinging bollocks. He clenched his fists and screwed his eyes shut. He took a deep breath telling himself he couldn’t jump Draco in the changing room. It was entirely inappropriate! Draco’s voice startled him into opening his eyes again, and Draco was standing in front of him wearing black pants that looked a bit like Y-fronts but had longer legs like boxer shorts. They hugged Draco’s arse and legs, and cupped a very nice bulge in the front. He looked fucking amazing! 

“Jeans, Potter!” Draco snapped with a frown on his face. 

“Sorry,” Harry said softly. He held out the jeans and then lowered his gaze to the floor. 

Draco turned his back on Harry and started complaining as he pulled on the black jeans, “Pretty hard for you to help me pick out clothes if you won’t even look at me, Potter!” 

Harry looked back up and saw Draco in the mirror buttoning up his jeans. He was stunned by the picture Draco made. The tight black jeans, soft grey jumper, bare feet and mussed up blond locks falling into his face. Harry stood up and took an involuntary step toward Draco. “I was...I was trying to, ah...I mean, er...privacy,” he whispered. 

“If I wanted privacy, I wouldn’t have invited you into the changing room,” Draco whispered back. “I wanted...I wanted you to look.” His chest was rising and falling rapidly. 

“I...” Harry was confused. Was Draco talking about the clothes or about something else entirely? Draco couldn’t possibly mean that he wanted Harry to look at his body. Harry was sure he was just projecting his own fantasies. He started to ask, “Did you want...?” 

“You look incredible!” Raven came back into the space, shattering the moment. “I knew you would look brilliant in those jeans!” She pulled some clothes off the hangers, “You should try this t-shirt next, with this pair of jeans. Oh and I’ve set aside ten pairs of the boxer briefs for you.” When this was met with two sets of confused looks she clarified, “The pants. You know, the good ones!” 

Draco started to reach for the clothes Raven held, and Harry decided he would make a strategic retreat and try to get his emotions regarding Draco under control. “You two seem to know what you’re doing. I’m just gonna check out some of the shops down the street.” 

“Potter?” Draco shot Harry a look that he couldn’t interpret. 

“I’ll, er...I’ll be back in a bit,” with that Harry rushed from the cubicle, through the store and out onto the street. His heart was pounding in his chest, he was hard, and his thoughts were muddled. He just needed to think. He spotted a tea shop across the street and eyed it like a man in the desert looks at an oasis. 


	6. Chapter 6

Two cups of tea later Harry was no closer to figuring out his feelings toward Draco. He had known he had been attracted to him since as long as he could remember. But it had never been an all-consuming need like he currently felt. When he was a teenager it had just been something in the back of his mind, ever-present but not demanding. Now however, all he could think about was touching Draco, kissing him...seeing him naked. 

How was he supposed to finish this assignment, put his house back in order, and save London from destruction, when all he could think about was getting his hands on Draco’s cock? 

“Is everything all right, dear?” The motherly woman who had served Harry his tea came over to check on him. 

“Oh, er, yes...it’s great, thanks,” Harry held up his mug and took another sip. 

“No, no. I didn’t mean the tea, dear. It’s just that you seem quite troubled,” she gave him a kind look. 

As Harry looked at her smiling face, he realized that this woman might know Davies. “Actually, I’m here looking for a friend of my...uncle’s. Do you happen to know an Archibald Davies?” 

She looked back at him speculatively for a moment. “Aye, I knew Archie. But he passed away, oh...at least twenty years ago now. What do you want with Archie, then?” 

Harry’s face fell with the news. He had been counting on finding Davies. “My uncle, he died twenty years ago too. I guess I had just been looking for a connection,” he hoped he had made up a convincing lie. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, lovey. Archie’s mum still runs the shop down the road. Maybe you could talk to her?” she suggested. 

“That’d be great!” Harry perked up. “Which shop is it?” 

“Davies Antiques, just two more blocks down the street. Can’t miss it.” She was back to smiling kindly at him. 

Harry paid his bill and rushed back over to the clothing shop where Draco was. He spotted Draco at the counter paying for the clothes. “I’m royally fucked!” was all Harry could think. Draco was wearing a soft, clingy, white t-shirt. It was so thin, Harry thought maybe he could see the slight blush of his nipples. The jeans he was wearing should have been illegal. They were faded to almost white along his thighs and fly, and they had strategic little rips and tears that teased small glimpses of smooth, pale skin. 

“Raven, have my purchases sent over to the Red Lion,” Draco was instructing the clerk; and Harry noticed the bulging bags on the counter. Draco turned and noticed him. “Back then, Potter?” he asked with a tight smile that didn’t meet his eyes. 

“Yeah...I ah, I know where we should look next...” he trailed off at the cold expression on Draco’s face. 

“Well, by all means, lead on.” Draco said and then he walked out of the store leaving Harry to rush to catch up. 

They reached the store quickly without another word between them. When they entered, they were immediately greeted by a tiny, white-haired elderly woman carrying a long black cane reminiscent of Draco’s father’s. Harry couldn’t immediately tell if she was a witch or a Muggle. 

“What can I help you boys with today?” her thin high voice rang out loudly for such a tiny woman. “Are you looking for anything special?” 

“I...we, ah,” Harry began while Draco moved away into the warren of cluttered antiques. “Actually, I was looking for Archibald Davies. He was school mates with my godfather’s brother, Regulus Black. They’re both gone now, and my parents too, so I guess I was just looking to connect,” Harry heaved a sigh at the end of this awkward speech. 

“Oh, you poor dear,” the woman sympathized, “Well I’m sorry to tell you that my Archie has passed also. Gone these last twenty years. I remember that Regulus. Devilishly good-looking boy!” 

“I...I’m sorry to hear about your son. Do- ah, do you have...er, anything from when he was at school?” Harry darted his eyes around the cluttered space as he spoke. 

She shook her head no as she spoke, “After I lost Archie, I didn’t have much use for that stuff. Some of it may still be scattered around here. You’re free to look.” 

As she finished speaking, Harry heard Draco’s shout, “Potter! Get over here!” 

He wound his way through the crowded aisles. When he reached Draco, he could see that he was holding a white goblet. It seemed to be carved out of stone. “What’s that?” he asked. 

“I believe this is Moonstone. I’m feeling a really strong energy from this. Are you feeling it?” Draco quirked an eyebrow in Harry’s direction as he continued his examination of the goblet. 

“Nope. Nothing. What does it feel like to you?” Harry wondered. 

“It’s not exactly quantifiable, Potter. It pulses. And...,” Draco turned pink as he spoke, “it tingles.” 

“Let me try holding it,” Harry reached for the goblet and his hands ended up covering Draco’s. 

“Just a minute!” Draco extricated his hands and then Harry was holding it on his own. 

“Yeah, nothing. Just feels like a goblet. But it’s supposed to respond to your magic anyway, so let’s try it.” 

They made their way back to the owner and Harry asked to purchase the goblet. He was preparing to fork over the amount she told them when Draco stepped in and began a complicated negotiation; which left the two of them smiling. “Come back anytime dears!” she called after them. 

They found a deserted alley and decided to Apparate back to Grimmauld Place. They had to wait while Robards, Kingsley and Mrs. Weasley were sent for. When everyone was assembled, they made their way to the hole in the kitchen floor. It had been decided that Draco should try placing the object in the core, the reasoning being that the house would be more likely to accept something from him. 

Harry was not pleased with this plan, he felt that it put Draco in too much risk but he was voted down by everyone else. Draco said dismissively, “It has been trying to kill you, Potter. I hardly think it will accept anything from you.” 

Draco placed the goblet into the core and the purple glow spread out to cover it. The green light was shrinking but not gone entirely. 

“Well done! Both of you. It seems much more stable already,” Kingsley was smiling with relief. 

When everyone had said their goodbyes, Draco and Harry decided to Apparate directly back to their room at the inn. 

Draco carelessly pushed his blond hair away from his face and smiled at Harry, “I’d say this calls for a celebration, Potter.” 

Harry was caught in the spell cast by Draco’s smile and his tumbled locks, “I...ah, what?” He couldn’t seem to remember what Draco had said. 

“I asked if you want to go down to the pub, or are you too tired? You seem more confused than usual, Potter,” Draco stared over at where Harry was leaning against the wall of their room. 


	7. Chapter 7

“The pub. Yeah, sure. Let’s go. Not tired,” Harry rushed through his garbled speech and was opening the door before he even finished. At this point, he thought being in a public place would be the only thing stopping him from making a fool of himself over Draco. 

The pub was pretty packed this time of night, but they found two stools at the bar and settled in. Draco asked the bartender for two of his best whisky. Two tumblers of amber liquid were quickly set before them. Draco lifted his glass toward Harry, “To us, Potter! We make a damned fine team!” His smile reached his eyes and they were sparkling in Harry’s direction. 

Harry lifted his glass and took a drink, keeping his eyes locked with Draco’s. “Ftghah!” he sputtered as the whisky hit the back of his throat. “What the hell?” he rasped. 

Draco’s smiled deepened into a smirk. He lifted his own glass and took a deep drink. His eyes closed briefly, and then he was opening them and staring at Harry again. While Harry watched, helpless to look away, he ran his tongue across his lips. “What’s the matter, Potter? Not used to the good stuff?” he teased. 

“That’s...that’s worse than Firewhisky! What are these Muggles thinking?” Harry stared down at his glass wondering why it just hadn’t melted. 

“We’ve a special on tequila shots if you blokes are interested,” the bartender interrupted. 

“Sounds perfect!” Draco answered before Harry could object. Harry couldn’t remember if he had ever had tequila before. 

The bartender set down eight shot glasses, a bowl of lime wedges, and a salt shaker. Both men looked in bewilderment at the items and then at each other. They turned back to the barman who was standing there with laughter in his eyes. “Need some directions, fellas?” he asked. Harry nodded without looking over at Draco to see what he was doing. The bartender aimed his first instructions at Harry. “There’s a three part process, yeah? First you lick your hand between your thumb and index finger and then sprinkle salt where it’s wet,” he stopped speaking to wait for Harry to carry out his directions. 

Harry thought this Muggle was probably having him on, but had no way to prove it. So with Draco watching avidly, he licked his hand and sprinkled the salt. When he was done he looked back at the bartender expectantly. 

The bartender chuckled seeing Draco’s expression while he watched Harry. Mischief gleamed in his eyes as he gave Harry the next direction, “Now take a lime wedge and hold it in between your teeth, with the pulp side facing out.” 

“What? That can’t be right!” Harry complained. 

“No, it’s right. Trust me. It’s a process,” he encouraged him. Harry, feeling like the biggest fool on Earth, reluctantly put the lime wedge in his mouth. The tart and bitter flavor filled his senses. Draco smirked at this but it was wiped off his face with the next set of instructions. “Now you,” the bartender turned to him, “you need to do the next part in one quick move.” He paused here looking them both over again, “You need to lick the salt from his hand, drink the shot and then suck the lime from his mouth.” Harry’s eyes went wide and he instinctively tightened his lips around the lime. The bartender repeated the instructions when Draco just stood there without moving, “It’s simple. Lick, swallow, and suck! Just all in one motion, so all of the flavors are in your mouth at once.” 

Harry heard Draco saying softly to himself, “Lick...swallow...suck.” Was he really going to follow the directions of this clearly insane Muggle? He leaned toward Harry, his eyes wide. He reached out and held Harry’s left hand, and Harry forgot how to breathe. He lifted Harry’s hand. And then his mouth was there, warm and wet, lapping at the salt on his skin. Before Harry could even process this, Draco had moved his mouth away and had tossed the alcohol down his throat. Then he was moving back toward him and his lips caressed his own as he sucked at the lime in his mouth. Harry closed his eyes and whimpered at the sensation. It was over much too quickly and Draco pulled back. 

Harry pulled the lime from his mouth, and stared at him. His mouth was red and wet. His eyes were wide, more black than grey at this point. “Did you like it?” Harry whispered. 

“Yessss,” Draco hissed softly. “You should try it too.” Keeping his gaze focused on Harry, he took a deliberate wide lick on his right hand. He sprinkled the salt, and then bit a lime wedge between his teeth. 

In a daze, Harry reached for his hand and brought it to his mouth. He licked at the soft skin and heard Draco groan. Harry spent a good minute licking and sucking at his hand before he remembered that he was meant to do more. He reluctantly pulled back and downed the shot. Fire hit his belly and his head was dizzy as he leaned toward Draco’s mouth to suck at the lime juice. He rubbed their lips together and then ran his tongue over Draco’s bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth. 

Draco’s hands were fisted in Harry’s t-shirt when he finally pulled back from the kiss. “Again!” Harry said, before he licked his hand and sprinkled the salt, holding it up toward Draco’s mouth. 

By the time they finished all the shots, they were kissing blatantly between drinks and were so drunk they kept stumbling into each other. They waved the bartender over and asked for “More!” 

“Nah, I think you two have had enough,” he chuckled. “You should probably head upstairs and sleep it off.” He cleaned up their mess and moved away, down the bar. 

“We should go upstairs,” Harry repeated. 

“Yes,” Draco nodded solemnly, but then he lost his balance from the movement and stumbled into Harry, nearly taking them both to the ground. 

They slowly and noisily made their way upstairs to their room, stopping twice along the way to snog and grope in the hallway. When they finally made it into the room, they both leaned back against the door heavily. Then Draco turned to face Harry, pressing him into the door. “Want you Potter,” he breathed into his neck, “Oh, so much!” 

Harry groaned at the sensations of Draco’s mouth against his neck and Draco’s words in his heart. Draco pushed himself between his legs, thrusting erratically. Harry moved his feet apart, as far as he could, to make room for him. He caught hips hips and held them tightly to press their hard cocks together and halt Draco’s random thrusting. He slid his hands under Draco’s soft t-shirt, slowly dragging his fingertips across the soft skin at the small of his back. 

Draco pressed his mouth back to Harry’s, darting his tongue inside to tease him. He kept pausing to gasp into Harry’s mouth and, "Please... yessss... Harry... more!” 

All of Harry’s senses had narrowed to his mouth, his fingertips, and his aching cock. His whole body throbbed with the ache, and all he could think of was getting closer and closer to Draco. Draco started kissing and sucking on his throat, and he threw his head back with the pleasure, “Draco! Merlin, yes...Draco!” he moved one of his hands to the front of Draco’s jeans and palmed his length through the fabric, but it wasn’t enough. 

Draco whined into Harry’s neck, “Please, Harry...please!” His hips kept thrusting into his hand. Harry unzipped Draco’s flies and slipped his hand inside of his pants, touching the hot, hard, velvet skin of his prick. “Yesss...oh, yes,” Draco moaned and in less than a minute of Harry’s fingers on him, he was coming. 

Draco’s warm, wet release covered Harry’s hand as he stroked him through his orgasm. When he had finished, Draco slumped against him, pressing his face into his neck. He seemed pretty wobbly, so Harry walked them both over to the nearest bed, which happened to be his. He gave Draco a gentle push and he flopped down on his back, jeans still open and soft, wet prick exposed. Harry reached down to pull off his shoes and socks. When he finished, he crawled onto the bed to join him. Draco had his eyes closed, so Harry dropped soft kisses on his mouth and whispered his name. 

There was no response, not even the twitch of an eyebrow. Draco had snogged Harry senseless, rutted against him and come in his hand, and had then passed out. Perfect! Harry thought for a moment about pressing up against the unconscious man. He could pull his pants lower and press against that perfect ass until he came too. But no, he couldn’t do that without consent and Draco was in no position to give him that. 

He pulled a blanket over Draco and went and had a wank in the shower. Draco was snoring slightly when he came out of the bathroom. He decided that the half beds were much too small for both of them to sleep comfortably, so he went over and got into Draco’s bed. Draco’s scent still clung to the sheets and soothed Harry into sleep. 


	8. Chapter 8

Harry woke up with blinding sunshine in his face and the worst headache, almost as bad as back when he could feel his scar burning. The continuous tapping at the window made him realize what had woken him up, and he gingerly sat up. He looked over to the other bed to see that it was empty and the blanket he had used on Draco was now folded neatly across the end. His brain hurt too much to worry about what that meant, so he opened the window and let in the owl waiting there. 

“Sorry, old boy,” he told the owl as he untied the parchment from its leg, “no treats I’m afraid.” The owl ruffled its feathers and then left, apparently no reply was needed. The missive was from Headmistress McGonagall: “Harry, it has been decided that you and Mr. Malfoy should come to Hogwarts next.” 

Well, that told him exactly nothing. He supposed he should try to find Draco and give him the news. Draco. They had almost...well, Draco had...so did that count? Had they actually had sex or not? This was much too confusing with a hangover. Harry had not thought to bring any hangover potion with him, because...why would he. But he made a vow to himself to start bringing it everywhere he went from now on. 

He was sure the inn’s owner could direct him to the Muggle remedy, but that would require standing up and walking downstairs and he was still working up to that at the moment. On his third attempt, he was able to stand up and remain standing, albeit he had to hold onto his head as he did it. He slowly made his way downstairs, every noise clanging in his head. When the innkeeper saw him, she silently held out a glass of water and three white tablets. “Your boyfriend’s through there,” she gestured with her head toward the pub, “Coffee’s coming right up.” 

Harry nodded and then winced at the motion, taking the water and tablets. He swallowed the pills and handed the glass back. “Thanks,” he rasped. 

“No problem,” she turned and walked toward what he supposed was the kitchen. 

He stood in the hallway trying to work up the courage to face Draco. He wanted to grab him and kiss him and remind him of how good it felt last night, but he was worried that the only reason Draco had even kissed him was because they had been so drunk. Would he be angry at Harry? Would he think Harry had taken advantage of him? Would he still want Harry as much as Harry still wanted him? 

Realizing that the only way to get these answers was to talk to Draco, Harry moved slowly from the hall into the pub. He saw Draco right away. He was sitting alone and frowning into a cup of coffee. While he watched him, he closed his eyes and shook his head. He definitely did not look like a man eagerly awaiting the return of his lover. Harry’s optimism took a downward turn. 

“Hey,” he said as he sat down across from Draco. “You look about how I feel,” he said when Draco looked up at him. He had dark circles under his eyes and had a grey cast to his skin. 

“Well, you’re no Witch Weekly centerfold yourself at the moment!” Draco snapped back. “We were fucking stupid to drink so much.” He glared at Harry as if it were all his fault. “We even ended up in the wrong beds! How in Salazar’s name did that happen?” he complained. 

Harry sat stunned for a moment. Draco didn’t remember. He didn’t remember what had happened between them. How could he not remember? Every kiss and caress between them was seared into Harry’s mind, and Draco didn’t remember any of it. Hadn’t he wondered why his trousers were open and his cock was out? Maybe he figured he had had a drunken wank? Realizing Draco expected an answer, Harry said, “Yeah, I don’t know. We must’ve been too drunk to know the difference.” Even as he said the lie, his heart ached to hold Draco and kiss him. He guessed the two of them just weren’t meant to be. Changing the subject, he told Draco about McGonagall’s note. “As soon as we’re packed, we can start the drive.” 

Harry thought he heard “bloody auto” under Draco’s breath, but all he said out loud was, “I can be ready in ten.” 

Before Harry knew it, they had the car packed up and they were on the road. It was a long drive north. Draco alternated between sleeping and staring out the passenger window. Harry stopped several times for gas, food and to stretch his legs. Once they reached the Scottish Highlands, an owl appeared to guide Harry the rest of the way. By the time they reached the castle, darkness had long since fallen. 

The castle was quiet and students all abed, but McGonagall was waiting for them at the front doors. “It’s wonderful to see you, Harry,” she said as she held out her hands to clasp his. She turned to Draco, “I am pleased to see you as well, Mr. Malfoy.” She turned to lead them up the stairs, “You must both be quite tired from your journey. I’ll show you to your rooms. The house elves will bring up your belongings.” They made their way up to the fourth floor corridor. “And here are your rooms. Mr. Malfoy, you are here and Harry, you are next door. We can speak more in the morning. I’ll bid you both goodnight.” She left them both standing in the hall. 

Harry stood and stared at Draco. He wanted...oh, so many things. He wanted to push Draco against the rough stone wall and kiss him so hard he would never forget it. He wanted to see Draco in his prissy pajamas again. He wanted to hold Draco all night long and never let go. But he did none of these things. He made himself turn and walk over to his door. Once there, he looked back over his shoulder at Draco, “Goodnight Malfoy,” he said quietly and turned back around to open his door. 

He heard a whispered, “Goodnight, Harry.” But by the time he whipped his head back around Draco had disappeared into his room, and he decided he had only imagined it. 

The room was very nice. It held a double bed with blue velvet bed hangings. There was a fireplace with a comfortable sofa in front of it. There was a wardrobe against one wall and a well-stocked bookcase on the other. One wall contained a door and when Harry investigated, he found a small bathroom. His trunk had been placed by the foot of the bed. In spite of the long, exhausting drive, he was still too keyed up to sleep. He decided to take a long hot shower. 

After his shower, he was warm and more relaxed. He pulled on a pair of boxers, but instead of getting into bed, he pulled a book from the shelf and sat on the couch to read. The book could not hold his attention and it kept straying to Draco. What was Draco doing right now? Was he in bed? Had he changed into his poncy, striped pajamas? Was he trying to relax too? Was he touching himself? Oh, Merlin! Harry liked the idea of that. 

He imagined Draco lying back on his bed shoving his pajama bottoms down far enough to give him access to his cock and balls. He would take it nice and slow. He would tease himself first, running his fingertips slowly up and down the length of his hardening prick. Harry’s imagination continued, his own hand reaching down to cup his own cock as he thought about Draco. He pictured Draco reaching down to gently squeeze and tug at his balls. Draco’s mouth opened and he groaned. Draco wrapped his other hand around his shaft and pumped it up and down, running his thumb over the head and spreading the pre-come on every upstroke. While Draco was enjoying the sensation of his hand on his prick, he would move his other hand from his balls to trail lower. He would stroke his fingers across his hidden pucker, and maybe push in the tip of one of his fingers. Harry was caught up in this fantasy. He had pulled his own cock out of his pants and was stroking himself while he imagined what Draco was doing. 

A loud thump and a moan pulled Harry from his reverie. Where had that come from? Had something happened to Draco? His worry managed to soften his prick enough that he could stuff it back into his pants. He grabbed his jeans and pulled them back on, but didn’t stop to put on a shirt before he rushed out into the hallway. 

“Draco!” he pounded on Draco’s door, “Draco! Are you OK?” he pulled out his wand intending to cast Alohomora. 

The door was wrenched open by a flushed and shirtless Draco. “Potter! What are you thinking? Why are you trying to wake the dead by throttling my door?” He pushed his hair off his face only to have it fall back over one eye. He looked quite pink in the face and slightly sweaty. 

Draco was wearing a pair of his new jeans that were low on his hips and zipped but not buttoned, so that Harry could see a soft, golden trail leading down into his jeans. “I...I...” Harry couldn’t get his brain to work; all he could think about was following that happy trail with his fingers or his lips. “I...you...danger?” 

“What the hell are you on about Potter?” Draco put his hands on his hips and glared at him. 

“I...I...heard something...something loud...” Harry dragged his eyes away from Draco’s crotch and took in the pale, lightly muscled expanse of his chest. 

“Well...I didn’t hear anything. Probably a ghost,” Draco abruptly stopped talking. His chest was rising and falling rapidly. 

“So...everything’s ok then?” Harry tried to peer around Draco to look into his room. Draco’s bedcovers were thrown back and there was a fire in the fireplace. Everything looked normal. Harry looked back at Draco, and all that skin on display. He noticed thin, silvery lines crisscrossing his chest and he stiffened with the realization of what they were. 

Draco crossed his arms over his chest when he saw Harry frowning at it. “Potter!” he barked. 

Harry looked up at him blinking his eyes and frowning. “I...I did that...” he whispered. “I’m sorry...I didn’t know...I...” he looked back down at Draco’s chest, the parts he could still see. He reached out and traced, with his fingertip, a line that started at Draco’s left collarbone and traveled diagonally down his chest. 

“Potter!” Draco said; and this time it came out as more of a warning, but Harry ignored it. 

His finger stopped when he reached Draco’s crossed arms. He closed his hand over Draco’s arm and then he couldn’t help himself, he leaned forward and placed soft kisses all along the scar he had just traced. Draco’s muscles, in his arms and shoulders, became rigid but he didn’t push him away. Harry reached out with his other hand and held on to Draco’s shoulder, feeling the smooth warm skin sliding under his palm. He tugged at Draco’s arms, trying to pull them away from his chest, but Draco wouldn’t move them. He gave that idea up and decided to trace the scar with his tongue instead. Draco’s skin was warm and salty, and Harry felt him shudder. Pleased with this response, he flicked his tongue along the silver line. When he reached Draco’s collarbone again, he pushed his face into Draco’s neck and nuzzled. 

Draco moved his arms then, pushing Harry’s shoulders away and taking a step backward. “Potter! What...what are you doing? Are you drunk?” he glared at Harry while he spoke. 

Harry felt Draco’s words like a slap. “No..., I’m...I just...” he stumbled over the words to tell Draco what he had been feeling. Feeling inadequate he stopped talking and just stared at him. 

After a long moment of silence, Draco pushed him out the door. “Goodnight, Potter,” he shut his door in Harry’s face. 


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning Harry and Draco found themselves sitting in the headmistress’ office waiting for Minerva McGonagall. To Harry’s eyes, the office was the same and yet different than it had been in Dumbledore’s time. His throat ached and he had to blink his eyes to clear them when he thought of the older wizard. His relationship with Dumbledore was complicated, but he had loved Harry and Harry had loved him back. 

He shifted in his chair, impatient to have this meeting started and find out why they were back at Hogwarts. Too many memories, too many what if’s, and many of them involving the man sitting next to him. Harry sighed and shifted again. 

“For Merlin’s sake, Potter! Can’t you sit still for one minute? Or are you still a child?” Draco sneered at him, giving him a dismissive sidelong glance. 

“What the hell, Malfoy? Why are you back to being such a prat? We were actually getting along for a while there,” Harry turned and glared back at him. 

“Cuz’ that worked out so well?” Draco asked derisively. 

“Are you angry because I kissed you, or because you liked it?” Harry shouted angrily. 

Draco whirled around furiously to face him fully, and was opening his mouth to reply when McGonagall walked into her office and sat down in front of them. “Gentlemen, I see that your relationship hasn’t changed. Pity. We had hoped...Well, that’s neither here nor there. We brought you here because yesterday a portion of the wall, in this office, unexpectedly opened. Inside was a box, addressed to you, Harry.” 

She reached into a drawer and pulled out a slim plain brown box. It was tied with a black ribbon, and there was a note attached. Harry picked it up and read the note aloud, “Harry, I think you will find this to be of use.” It was signed Dumbledore. He looked up at McGonagall with a question in his eyes. 

“We have no idea why it has appeared now, but the thinking of the Ministry is that it may be tied to your quest to save Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore has been absent from his portrait of late, so we cannot consult him on this,” she gave him an encouraging look. “Go ahead and open it Harry.” 

Harry didn’t know why but he looked over at Draco first. Draco’s mouth tightened into a flat line as he looked back, and then he gave a slight nod. Harry looked down at the box in his hands and pulled the ribbon free. Inside the box, lying on a bed of pure white velvet, was a phoenix feather. Harry looked up at the other two in wonderment. “This must be from Fawkes,” he said. He looked at Draco, “Do you feel anything? Do you think it will help?” 

In response, Draco slowly reached for the feather, as if expecting Harry to pull it away. He held it in his hand for a moment before replying. He spoke slowly, “I can feel the magic, the power. But I don’t know if that’s because of the house.” He looked up and locked eyes with Harry, “I’m sorry...I can’t tell...” 

“Well, I think it’s worth trying, but while we’re here we should take a look around Slytherin House. Regulus may have hidden a piece of the core there,” Harry suggested. He expected Draco to fight him on this but was surprised when he nodded in agreement. 

“This would be the perfect time for that, the students are all in classes this morning. The current password is ‘adder’. Good luck to the both of you,” McGonagall nodded at them as they got up to leave. 

Harry and Draco walked down to the dungeons without speaking. Harry was busy thinking over the events of the morning. He put his hand on the outside of his pocket, feeling the box safely tucked there. It gave him a warm glow inside. 

When Harry stopped at a blank section of stone wall, Draco looked at him in surprise. Draco spoke the password and the passage to the Slytherin common room opened. A quick glance revealed no students in there. “I take it you have been in here before,” Draco asked. “Why am I not surprised?” he said more to himself than to Harry. 

“Yeah, it’s a long story, but yeah,” Harry moved toward the stairs. “We should look in the dorms. Which way to the boys’ side?” 

“Oh, so you didn’t make it all the way in then!” Draco smirked. 

“I wish!” Harry said under his breath. 

“Wait...what? What did you just say?” Draco halted on his way up the short set of stairs leading to the boys’ dormitories. 

“Nothing! It was nothing, let’s just keep looking,” Harry hurried past him up the stairs but he was halted when he reached the hallway and didn’t know which way to turn. When Draco joined him he asked, “Where should we start?” 

“Slytherins have a tradition of carving our initials on the inside doorframe. We’ll just have to look for his initials,” Draco started toward the first door when Harry’s next question made him pause. 

“Which room was yours?” Harry’s face turned red and he couldn’t believe he just asked Draco that. But now that they were in the Slytherin dorms, he just needed to know where Draco had slept all those years. 

“Third door,” Draco gestured with his arm. “But Black wasn’t in my dorm. We don’t need to search there...” his voice trailed off as Harry opened the door and went in, leaving Draco in the hallway. 

“Which bed was yours?” Harry couldn’t look Draco in the face when he asked this. He looked around the room, taking in the bright green bed hangings, the silver lamps, and the windows looking into the lake. He tried to imagine living here. 

Draco moved over to the farthest bed, “This one I think.” He moved around to peer behind the right bedpost, “Yes, this one was mine.” He looked uncomfortable and kept his hand wrapped around the bedpost. 

“What? Did you carve you initials there too?” Harry asked walking over to the bed. 

“Something like that,” Draco muttered, not letting go of the post. 

His curiosity really peaked, Harry walked over to him. “What is it? What are you hiding?” 

“It’s nothing. Just childish foolishness. Now, Black wasn’t in this dorm. I suggest we stop wasting time and get to looking,” Draco glared in Harry’s direction but couldn’t meet his eyes. 

“Yes, of course, you’re right,” Harry moved back toward the doorway as he was speaking. When Draco let go and started to follow him, Harry swiftly turned back and cast “Impedimenta” at Draco, then he rushed back around Draco to reach the bedpost. Harry couldn’t see anything at first. He didn’t even know what he was searching for. 

Draco recovered from the jinx and started pulling on Harry’s arm, trying to get him to move. “Leave off, Potter!” he shouted. 

Harry held Draco off with one hand, furiously scanning the wooden post. Then he finally saw it. The initials D. L. M. carved into the wood and darkened with age. But why would Draco want to hide this? There must be something more. And then he saw what else was there. Underneath the first set of initials was a small plus sign and another set of initials, H. J. P. Harry turned startled eyes to Draco. 

Draco let go of Harry’s arm and moved away to scrub his hands over his face angrily, “I told you! Just foolishness!” 

“But...but, that’s...I mean, ah...those are my...you know...” Harry looked back at the post to confirm that his eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on him and that Draco had indeed linked his initials with Harry’s. “Why?” he breathed, “Why did you...” he moved over in front of Draco. 

“It’s nothing! I told you. Why did you say you wished you had been in the Slytherin dorms? The boys’ dorms, I might add. Well, Potter?” Draco looked up then, his face was red, his eyes were stormy and some of his hair had fallen across his face. 

They just looked at each other, the moments ticking away. Finally, Harry worked up the courage to speak, “I, er...I suspect it’s, uh...it’s the same reason you, er, carved my initials.” He took a deep breath and licked his dry lips, “I...I had a crush, er...on...you...” Harry hoped that the floor might swallow him up right then, but he knew he was never that lucky. He risked a glance up at Draco’s face. He looked as if he had been hit by a Bludger. 

“A crush?” Draco repeated, “On me? That can’t...I mean, you didn’t...you don’t...It’s not possible.” He shook his head no as he spoke. 

Harry moved in closer, so close their chests were almost touching when he took a deep breath. “Did you have one too?” When Draco looked at him blankly, he added, “A crush, I mean. On, er...on me?” Draco turned his head away, avoiding his eyes. Harry lifted his right hand and gently turned his face back toward his. “Did you?” he whispered. 

“Potter...I...” Draco looked at him with pleading eyes, but Harry couldn’t tell what he was asking. 


	10. Chapter 10

Draco pulled away from Harry, “Of course not! You think too highly of yourself Potter. Now, we have work to do.” He moved out the door and back into the hallway so he missed the crushing disappointment reflected in Harry’s face. “I’ll look at the first door, and you can look at the second,” he called back over his shoulder to Harry. 

When Harry reached the hallway, Draco was already looking in one of the dorm rooms. He walked into the second room and turned to peruse the doorframe. It looked like hundreds of sets of initials. He thought it would take hours to read them all. Draco’s head popped around the door, “What was Regulus’ middle name?” 

“Arcturus. Why?” Harry looked at him puzzled by the question. 

“To speed this up, we can cast Revelio and “RAB”. That should reveal if his initials are present,” with that, Draco disappeared back into the first room. 

Harry cast Revelio and Regulus’ initials and nothing happened. He shrugged and moved onto the next room, giving the third room a wide berth. In the fourth room he tried, the charm showed a bright white “RAB” against the dark wood of the doorframe. He called out, “Draco! I think I’ve found it!” 

Draco hurried in to look at the initials. “Alright. We should look for hidden panels, loose stones, and false fronts. The usual,” he said matter-of-factly. When Harry just stared at him blankly he added, “Come on, Potter, you’re an Auror, think like one!” 

“But they’re just children...” Harry stared as Draco started to move around the room testing and tapping on surfaces. 

Draco sent a quelling look back at him, “You are forgetting that they are Slytherins.” He went back to systematically checking the room. “I could use some help Potter.” Harry shook himself and started checking at the opposite end of the room. They had been searching for about thirty minutes, finding plenty of naked pictures, alcohol and illegal potions, when Draco’s muffled voice came from underneath one of the beds, “I think I found something.” 

Harry wiggled under the bed to join him. Draco pointed to an open panel with a glowing red gem. “I can feel the energy and I haven’t even touched it yet,” he said to him. 

“Do you think it’s safe? Do you know what it is?” Harry didn’t want to see Draco get hurt over this. 

“It looks like Dragonheart.” When Harry made a face, Draco clarified impatiently, “Not an actual heart, idiot, it’s a type of rare magical gem. The kind of thing you would find in a magical core.” He reached out and tentatively touched the stone. “This is very powerful. Can you feel it, Harry?” he asked eagerly. 

Harry reached up and let his fingers brush against Draco’s, and then he was touching the stone and feeling the magical energy shooting up his arm. He quickly pulled his hand away, “Yeah, yeah I can feel that. Is it safe for you to hold it?” 

“I don’t know,” Draco replied. “Do you have the box with the Phoenix feather?” Harry silently handed it over and Draco slid the gem in next to the feather. He put the lid back on and handed it back to Harry. He turned his head in Harry’s direction, it was close and dark under the bed. “We should report this to McGonagall,” he whispered, his eyes falling on Harry’s mouth. 

“Yeah...we should,” Harry whispered back, not tearing his eyes away from Draco. He reached one hand toward him, needing to touch him, when they were interrupted. 

“Oi! What the hell are you doing in our room?” “Probably fuckin’ Gryffindors!” The angry voices reached Harry and Draco, pulling their attention away from each other, and they dragged themselves out from under the bed. “Draco Malfoy!” “And Harry Potter!” 

“We’re here on official Auror business, boys.” Draco looked over at the pile of contraband they had found, “I would take care of that, if I were you. Let’s go, Potter,” he added sweeping out of the room. 

They made their way back to McGonagall’s office and filled her in on what they had found. They used her Floo to travel to the Ministry. They informed Kingsley and once again the major players, plus Molly Weasley, assembled in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place. 

It had been decided that Draco would place the feather first and the Dragonheart last. He picked up the feather and looked over at Harry. Harry tried to give him an encouraging smile but he was so worried it came out as more of a grimace. Draco walked forward and placed the feather in the sphere. The purple glow grew, but there was still a missing section. Draco moved back to the group. 

“Maybe I should do this part,” Harry suggested. “We don’t know what will happen. What if it’s the wrong piece? I don’t want Draco in danger!” 

“Don’t try to steal my glory, Potter!” Draco said as he snatched up the gem and walked swiftly back to the sphere. 

“Draco!” Harry called out. He tried to pull Draco back, but he was restrained by Robards. 

“Let him do this Harry. He has the best chance of making this work,” Robards said into his ear. 

When Draco got within a foot of the core, it started to hum. It was a low vibration that Harry felt in his entire body. Draco gently placed the Dragonheart into the empty part of the sphere. Immediately, the humming became deafening and suddenly a blinding white light swept through the room. 

“Draco!” Harry screamed, ripping himself from Robards’ grasp and rushing to the other side of the room. The white light was receding and Draco was still standing. Harry grabbed his shoulder, “Are you OK?” 

Draco turned to smile at him, “Look at that Harry!” The sphere was completely purple and it was spinning. The low hum was there, but faintly. “It’s fixed! We did it!” 

Harry tightened his hand on Draco. Then the others all came over to ooh and aww over the repaired magical core. The floor was replaced and it was deemed safe for Harry to move back in, but first he and Draco were required to fill out some reports back at the Ministry. By the time Harry was done with the paperwork it was late and Draco was long gone. 


	11. Chapter 11

Harry knew he should be feeling happy. His house was no longer trying to kill him. Shacklebolt and Robards were both thrilled with his work, he would probably get a promotion out of this. He should be out celebrating. 

But he wasn’t. Instead, he was sitting on his sofa with his head in his hands trying not to cry. The good news was that he no longer had a schoolboy crush on Draco. The bad news was that he was totally fucked. He was irretrievably in love with Draco Bloody Malfoy. Over the moon in love. So in love, he wanted to hold Draco while he slept, do anything he could to make him smile, and hold hands while they walked anywhere. 

Draco, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with him. Once the magical core was repaired, he couldn’t get out of here fast enough. He didn’t even seem to want to be friends. Harry had hoped they could at least maintain friendly contact. He slid lower and buried his face in the sofa cushions. What if Draco took his mother and moved back to Italy? How would he ever see him? 

When the shadows around him lengthened, he dragged himself up to his bed. He tossed and turned most of the night, and felt exhausted the next morning. He busied himself the next day with going back to Hogwarts and driving the rental car back. He had a lot of time to think, on his drive, and he had decided that he wasn’t going to give up on Draco and on love. He would try again; - tomorrow he would head over to Malfoy Manor and try to win Draco over. He was a Gryffindor, after all. 

Harry took a Muggle taxi back from the rental car place, and it was very late by the time he was once again back at Number 12. As he moved up the front walk to his house, he saw a shadow move to his left. He pulled out his wand and prepared to cast a shield charm, but the shadow moved into the light and he saw Draco standing there with what looked like a piece of wood in his hand. “Malfoy! What the hell? Why are lurking on my front step?” His questions came out more roughly than he had intended, so he tried to soften it, “Um...you should come inside...you’re probably cold.” He bustled through his front door without waiting for Draco’s response. He felt awkward and uncertain having Draco just show up here. 

He moved down his hallway and into his dining room before turning to Draco. He followed him slowly, in a manner Harry would have described as hesitant if it were anyone else but Draco. When Draco was within two feet of him, he thrust the piece of wood out and said, “Here. This is for you. You were right.” 

Harry reached out without thinking and grabbed the wood. He realized only then that it was a piece of Draco’s bedpost, the part with the initials. “So...you spent the day vandalizing Hogwarts?” he asked, confused about why Draco was here and why he had given him this odd gift. He looked down at their linked initials. 

“I had permission,” Draco huffed, looking expectantly at him. 

“What...er, what was I right about?” Harry’s exhaustion was catching up to him and he couldn’t seem to follow any of Draco’s thoughts. Silence followed his question. He could hear the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the house. He set the section of bed postdown on the dining room table. 

Draco broke the silence, “I did have a crush on you. Did have – do have, I don’t know...it never really went away.” He looked down at his hands and unclenched them. He swallowed hard and looked back into Harry’s eyes. “I know we have ‘history,’” he grimaced on the last word. “But do you think you could ever-” before he could finish, Harry interrupted him and grabbed his hand. 

“Yes. Yes, I could ever,” he whispered. He reached up with his free hand and tenderly pushed Draco’s hair behind his ear, something he had been dying to do for days. He then cupped Draco’s jaw and pulled him close for a soft kiss. Their lips brushed together softly before Draco moaned and Harry deepened the kiss, twining his tongue with Draco’s. 

This seemed to unleash something in Draco and he made short work of pulling Harry’s shirt over his head and starting to open his jeans. He wiggled his hand into Harry’s jeans to cup him over his pants. He pushed himself between his legs and forced him back onto the table. 

Harry pulled his mouth free to gasp, “No, no wait. I don’t want...” 

Draco pulled away and stiffened, his features shuttering into a cold mask, “I’m very sorry, Potter. I obviously misunderstood.” He turned and started walking away. 

Harry threw his arms around him and pulled him close before he could say any more. “Shut up, you ponce and get that cold expression off your face. I didn’t mean it like that, Draco. I just meant that I didn’t want our first time to be on my dining room table.” The stiffness seemed to leave Draco’s body and he pressed his face against Harry’s neck. “Maybe we can do it on the table for our third or fourth time,” Harry tried to make him smile but he just buried his face closer. Harry pulled back, cupping his cheek so he could look at him. “Will you come upstairs with me?” 

Draco let out a shuddering sigh and quietly answered, “Yes.” 

Harry linked their hands together and then gently tugged to get Draco to follow him up the stairs. When he pulled him into his bedroom, he glanced around the room and then back at Draco, “Sorry about the mess...I didn’t expect, er, well...” 

Draco looked from the crumpled bedclothes back to Harry, “I couldn’t sleep last night either. I didn’t know what to say, with everyone there. After I had been so awful at the castle, I didn’t know how to take it back.” He used his free hand to reach up and touch Harry’s face, gently caressing his cheek. Harry turned his face towards his touch. “This can’t be real...that I get to touch you like this!” Draco said in wonder. 

“You can touch me anyway you like,” Harry blurted out and then turned red at what he had impulsively revealed. To distract Draco from his embarrassment, he leaned forward and pressed their lips together. At the first touch, he moaned and pressed harder, opening his mouth and licking at Draco’s when he opened his mouth too. He wrapped both arms around Draco, bringing their bodies tight together, one hand cradling the back of his head and the other pressing low on his back. Draco’s hands slid all over the bare skin of Harry’s back, leaving trails of pleasure wherever they landed. His jeans were still unbuttoned, so Draco was able to easily slip his hand down to stroke his ass. “Oh, god! Merlin, yes!” he moaned. His erection was straining the front of his pants and aching for attention, but before he lost the ability to speak, he knew he needed to make sure he and Draco wanted the same thing. 

Harry pulled back and took a deep breath. Draco whimpered, “No” and tried to pull Harry back to their kiss. 

Harry spoke quickly before he lost his courage and ability to think, “I want a relationship. Not, ah, er...a one night stand.” He raised his worried eyes to Draco, when Draco took a step backwards. 

He wasn’t smiling. “You want what?” he asked softly. 

“I want a relationship,” Harry repeated with his heart pounding in his throat. “With you,” he added, in case that was unclear. 

“You want a relationship? With me?” Draco asked still not smiling and standing apart from him. 

“Don’t...don’t you want that too?” Harry looked into the serious grey eyes in front of him and screwed up his courage. “I...I love you,” he whispered. 

Draco’s head whipped back like he had been slapped, “You don’t...you can’t...I mean you can’t possibly. That can’t be true.” He shook his head as he spoke. “Fuck no! I’m a Death Eater, Harry!” 

“No! No, you’re not, not anymore!” Harry pulled a resisting Draco into his arms. Draco held himself stiffly, even as Harry ran his hands soothingly over his back. “I love you,” he said into Draco’s ear. 

Draco melted into Harry’s arms, but he continued shaking his head no. “No, no, can’t be true, can’t love me,” he murmured into Harry’s shoulder. 

“Did you think I just wanted a shag? A one-off?” Harry asked trying to get through to him. 

“Obviously Potter,” Draco sneered, “It’s what Malfoys are good for. Look, you probably think you are rescuing me, somehow. But I don’t need saving,” he tried to pull back out of Harry’s arms, but Harry wasn’t letting go. 

“I’m not trying to save you! I’m being selfish. I’m taking what I want, for a change. And I want you! Long-term! As my boyfriend!” Harry said as earnestly as he knew how. He dropped his gaze, “But if you don’t think you could love me...we’ll just drop the whole thing.” 

“That’s not really in question,” scoffed Draco. “How the hell could I not? I mean, look at you!” Draco said angrily. 

“I don’t really understand,” Harry asked in confusion. “You’re mad because you do? Lo- er, care about me?” 

“Fucking reckless Gryffindor!” Draco buried his face against his neck, his arms finally tightening back around him. “Course I love you, you idiot!” 

Harry threw back his head and laughed, relief making him giddy, “So bloody romantic! Gonna cherish that, Malfoy!” 


	12. Chapter 12

They had finally made it over to Harry’s bed. They were lying entwined, both men had their shirts off but were still wearing their jeans. They were kissing and mapping each other’s chests with their hands. Draco moved his mouth to trail kisses down Harry’s throat and chest, stopping when he reached a nipple to tease. He nipped and sucked until Harry arched his back and moaned. Harry grabbed his head and held him there. Draco smiled at his reaction and increased the suction, chuckling when he growled out, “Yes, fuck, that’s good!” 

Harry’s hands moved down to Draco’s waistband and started pulling at the belt loops. “Have too many clothes on!” he rasped. 

“You too!” Draco groaned into his chest. 

They both rolled away onto their backs to peel off the rest of their clothing. Harry finished first and rolled back toward Draco to watch him get naked. He couldn’t resist reaching down to stroke his own aching cock while he watched Draco push his pants down and reveal first the springy golden curls and then the hardened length of his prick. Draco looked over and saw Harry watching him. His eyes were drawn to where Harry was fisting his cock. He had stopped undressing, with all but the tip of his erection exposed. He had frozen, distracted by watching Harry work his prick. 

“Fuck! Don’t stop, Draco! Don’t be a fucking tease,” Harry growled. “Show me how hard you are for me.” 

Draco looked up at Harry’s face and must have been pleased with what he saw because he gave a sly smile and leaned back on his elbows. “Why don’t you do it?” he suggested breathlessly. 

Harry got onto his knees and crawled over to where Draco lay, half exposed. He pushed Draco’s legs apart and moved between them. He put his hands on his bare hip bones, his thumbs tracing back and forth where Draco’s soft skin dipped in. He leaned over and kissed down from his hip to the base of his cock. “Merlin, Potter! Who’s the tease now?” Draco hissed, his hands fisting into the sheets and twisting. 

Harry looked up and grinned at him, “Gonna take my time now...now that I have my hands on you.” He bent back to his task and started licking along Draco’s exposed shaft, loving the feel of the silky skin. Draco groaned and tried to thrust up into his mouth, but he held him down, gripping his hips tightly. 

“Fuck, Harry!” Draco moved his hands to pull off his pants himself, but before he could push them off, Harry grabbed at his hands and held them down. 

“Ah, ah, ah!” he warned, “You said this was my job. Hands off!” He grinned again and then went back to his ~~torture~~ slow licking of Draco’s prick. 

Draco squirmed under his grip. “Merlin, Harry! I need...” he groaned the rest of his sentence. “Please, Harry,” he gritted out, “need you to suck me!” 

Harry sat back on his heels, lips red and shiny from his ministrations. “Well...since you asked so nicely,” he smiled at Draco and then looked back down at his hardened length. He hooked his thumbs in the sides of Draco’s pants. He was breathing hard and the reality hit him that he was here with Draco, about to have sex. His hands were shaking as he slowly peeled his pants down and exposed the red, wet head of his cock. As soon as it was free from restriction, Draco’s prick bounced up and waved right toward where Harry was hovering. “Fuck! You’re gorgeous!” Harry whispered, feeling overwhelmed. He hurriedly stripped the pants off of Draco’s legs, finally leaving him totally bare to his gaze. He bent down and licked the dripping tip, relishing Draco’s taste. He gripped Draco’s cock tightly, held it to his lips and pushed the end of his tongue into the leaking slit to gather up the slippery pre-come. 

Draco threw his hands up and tangled them in Harry’s hair. His fingers tightened and pulled at his scalp, but he didn’t try and direct his mouth. It was more like he just held on for the ride. “HarryHarryHarry,” he moaned and pleaded. “Need you...Salazar! I need you!” Harry fit his mouth over the head of his cock and sucked it into his mouth, making Draco shout out some more, “Yes! Oh, please, yes!” Harry’s mouth slid down the shaft and his tongue teased along the underside. He sucked hard, his cheeks hollowing out, as he pulled back off Draco’s prick. He pushed back down on his cock, sucking hard, taking it as far as he could. “Merlin, Harry! I’m going to...can’t stop!” Draco thrust up swiftly into his mouth and then he was coming. Warm, salty fluid filled Harry’s mouth before he quickly swallowed. He held Draco in his mouth until the pulsing stopped, and then he started gently licking him clean until Draco pushed him away muttering, “Too much.” 

Harry pushed himself up on top of Draco. When he leaned forward, Draco eagerly met his mouth. Their tongues twined together, and Harry got even harder at the thought of Draco tasting himself in his mouth. He ground his aching prick against Draco’s stomach, enjoying the friction. They kissed for several minutes until Draco gasped into his mouth, “What...what do you want, Harry?” 

Harry dropped his head to Draco’s neck, hiding his face. He wanted to fuck Draco so badly but wasn’t sure how to ask for it. Was it too soon? Maybe Draco didn’t do that? Maybe he wouldn’t want Harry inside him? He groaned and ground against Draco again. 

“Harry,” Draco pulled at his head but he kept it buried. “Do you want my mouth?” he whispered and shivered as he said it. “Or do you want something...else?” 

At Draco’s second question, Harry’s head shot up and he looked at Draco questioningly. “Something else?” he whispered back. 

“Do you want to fuck me, Harry?” Draco asked almost hesitantly, his hands tightening his hold on Harry’s head. 

“Is, ah...is that, what you...er, want?” Harry tried not to look too eager, although his cock jumped against Draco’s abdomen when he said it. He gazed steadily into Draco’s grey eyes, trying to read his answer there. 

“Gods yes!” Draco said breathily, want shining out of his eyes. “Want you to fuck me, Harry!” 

Before he finished talking, Harry had smashed his mouth against his. Draco wanted him! He couldn’t get enough. He wanted to consume Draco. He could feel him hardening a second time. He needed to be inside him now! “Want you so much! Want to fuck! Need you!” Harry babbled. He gently bent Draco’s knees and spread them apart. He Accioed a tube of lube from his bedside table. He flipped it open and coated his fingers. He reached down between Draco’s legs and slowly traced a slippery finger around his pucker. “Are you sure?” he asked still not quite believing this was happening. 

“Salazar’s shorts, Potter! Put your fucking finger in me already!” Draco demanded, squirming against his hand. Spurred on, Harry shoved his finger in right to the second knuckle. “Aaaauuugh!” Draco moaned and twisted around his finger. “Yesyesyesyes,” he chanted as Harry slowly pulled his finger out and then pushed it back in again. 

“Look at you,” Harry breathed in awe. “You are so beautiful...so perfect!” Draco was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his hair was sticking to his forehead and he was tossing his head back and forth. His cock had hardened again and was bouncing against his stomach. Harry withdrew his finger and then pushed two back inside, feeling Draco’s slick walls closing around his fingers. He angled his fingers up and found the hidden bundle of nerves. Draco reacted wildly as he carefully stroked him there, “Fuck yes! Harry! Harry, please! Merlin, I won’t last. Need you now, Harry!” 

Harry was also in danger of coming immediately as he watched as Draco writhed around his fingers. He tightened his free hand around the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm. When he felt like he had himself under control, he used his slippery hand to slick up his cock and then line it up with Draco’s hole. He slid his clean hand around the back of Draco’s neck, his thumb wrapping around to caress his jaw. “Draco,” he breathed out as he pushed the head of his prick inside. 

Draco looked into Harry’s eyes and was captured. He couldn’t look away as Harry slowly entered him. His mouth opened in an ‘o’ and he panted as he adjusted to Harry being inside him. 

Once he was sheathed all the way inside Draco, Harry paused, waiting for a sign that Draco was ready for him to move. He lowered his head to nip and suck along his neck. He could feel Draco relax around him and shift his hips to push against his prick. This was the sign he had been waiting for. Harry pulled back and then pushed in again slowly. He had never felt like this before. Draco’s ass was perfect around his cock. He bit his lip to try and distract himself and keep from coming too soon. “God, Draco! You feel amazing, you’re perfect. So; good...so; good.” 

Draco wasn’t even speaking in words anymore, only garbled moans came from his mouth, “Aaaah, yeeaaugh, aaaaugh!” 

Harry moved his lubed hand and closed it around Draco’s hard prick. He squeezed, sliding his hand up and down. He ran his thumb over the leaky head, spreading the moisture. He pinched the tip, and then slid his hand down the shaft again. Draco was lifting his hips and thrusting himself onto Harry’s cock. Harry pushed up onto his knees and angled down to drive into him. He pounded rapidly into his ass as he stroked his prick. He could feel his orgasm coming and this time it couldn’t be stopped. He felt the ache building but before he could tip over the edge, Draco was coming. He shot all over Harry’s hands and their stomachs. The muscles of Draco’s ass clenched rhythmically down on Harry’s cock sending him into bliss as he came and came, shooting into Draco. His hips kept pumping erratically as he rode out his orgasm. 

When he was done, he collapsed on top of Draco until he felt a shove at his shoulder. “Can’t breathe,” Draco complained. Harry pulled out of him and rolled to his side. Then he pulled Draco back into his arms, settling Draco’s head against his chest. He let his hands stroke all over Draco’s back and ass, as his breathing and heartbeat calmed down. When the air started to chill the sweat on his skin, Harry grabbed his wand and cast a cleaning charm over the both of them. Then he Accioed a blanket to cover them. 

“We’re together now. Right?” Harry mumbled into Draco’s soft hair. 

Draco’s arms tightened around him and he burrowed deeper into Harry’s arms. “Yes, we’re together,” Draco said sleepily. 

“Boyfriends?” Harry asked, needing to know that Draco was willing to be public. He held his breath while he waited for an answer. “Draco?” he nudged the pliant man in his arms. “Draco, are we boyfriends?” 

“Yes, you berk. We’re boyfriends. Now shut up and go to sleep so we can fuck again when we wake up,” Draco said grumpily. 

With a giant smile on his face, Harry pulled his boyfriend closer and whispered in his ear, “Love you.” 

“Love you too. Now go to sleep,” Draco kissed his chest and snuggled into his arms. 

With the inhabitants asleep, there was no one to see the white wave of magic that swept through Grimmauld Place. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You can show your appreciation for the author in a comment here or on [livejournal](https://hd-erised.livejournal.com/90467.html). ♥
> 
> This story is part of an on-going anonymous fest hosted at hd_erised@livejournal.com. The author will be revealed January 8th.


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